


Stay a Little Longer

by infinitewritings



Series: Raabta [3]
Category: The Flash (TV 2014), The Flash - All Media Types
Genre: Cliffhangers, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Idiots in Love, Romantic Angst, Romantic Soulmates, Sexual Tension, Threats, Won't use their words, Yearning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-27
Updated: 2020-08-27
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:41:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26136676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/infinitewritings/pseuds/infinitewritings
Summary: "A place where I can go, to take this off my shoulders. Someone take me home."
Relationships: Eobard Thawne/You, Original Harrison Wells/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Raabta [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1767091
Comments: 2
Kudos: 3





	Stay a Little Longer

**Author's Note:**

> And we're back with a new part! It went from making no sense to something coherent. I apologize in advance, its quite long.
> 
> I will put a trigger warning for this chapter. There is a violent, aggressive threatening scene near the middle. It doesn't last really long but it is involved--please proceed with caution. 
> 
> Your support and excitement makes this so much more fun, M. You're a constant inspiration for me.

Groaning, HR grabbed his phone and walked towards the door.

“Where are you going to go?” Cisco asked.

“Somewhere I can find answers.”

“What if you can’t find them?”

“Then I’ll keep going until I do.”

\---

HR slowed his feet and gasped for air. Sweat ran down his face and he ran a hand through his hair and tugged at the ends. His feet moved slowly on the sidewalk as he calmed his breath. People scattered in front of him chattering loudly in their groups and he fixed the position of his headphones in his ear while increasing the song’s volume. Covering the sounds of laugher around him, HR wiped away the sweat on his forehead. HR walked towards the railing facing the water and let out a stifled groan. He tugged at his sweaty shirt and pulled his arm around for a stretch and rested his hands at his back to curl back into another stretch.

He still didn’t have any answers.

Since he started his run from STAR Labs, his mind had been screaming at him. With the music blaring in his ears, he managed to travel further than he planned, and the speed and adrenaline managed to engulf the stress accumulating in his mind. He was able to let his mind wander, even for a little bit, as he ducked under the overarching trees in the trail, skirted around other runners, and ignored his usual path. Instead of focusing on the problem, he wanted to let himself focus on something he liked and brought him peace, but there was no calm. He left STAR Labs with the hope of coming back with answers and yet he was still thinking about the messy case boards and the confusing files growing on his desk. He remembered the stacks of papers with circled words and highlight. So, he ran faster and further from the lab, from his home, his office, and the courtroom. There was an answer to everything somewhere in his mind and he just wasn’t able to pull it out. 

He was no stranger to confusing cases. He’s taken unsolvable cases before. He’s dived deep into a case to its bare bones and he’s had late nights drowning deeper in old books and research. There have been moments in his career where he’s wiped full boards just, so he could restart and moments where he would find answers as he’s running out of breath in the middle of a run. HR enjoyed difficult cases, he looked out for them. He liked giving people hope. 

Yet, this time, when he knows the right answer he still can’t prove it. 

The police had formally charged Eobard with suspicion to murder. They didn’t have all the factors and Doctor Snow’s office was completely wiped. There were hidden notes throughout the office. An empty secret compartment was found in the washroom with Eobard’s fingerprints. The deeper inches of Doctor Snow’s computer showed how deep he was researching Eobard’s previous charges. He had made his own notes throughout the old accusations—especially the previous town poisoning case. He had piled files and documents together. Police had found webcam recordings by Doctor Snow explaining his findings. Each video got more paranoid. He was willing to go as far as he needed to go to bring Eobard to justice, he had said in his video. Doctor Snow explained he was afraid for his family, but he wanted to help prosecute Eobard. Cisco opened the hard drive hoping to find the deep hidden evidence but come up to a static noise. 

They still didn’t have the physical evidence Doctor Snow had collected. 

The more he let himself go deeper in the life of Eobard Thawne and Doctor Snow, the less he seemed to know. Even with Caitlin explaining every little research, he couldn’t connect the dots. Eobard’s files had HR reconsidering everything. Everything he’s received from DeVoe’s team had him more confused. He’s checked initial reports from the police again. He’s played the original call to the police from Caitlin dozens of time. HR’s taken Cisco to the crime scene. He’s taken Barry to the crime scene, he made Cisco sift through Eobard’s past and his parent’s past, and he made Caitlin walk him through the entire scene again. Every different perspective only ended with more questions. He’s tried to see the night from Doctor Snow’s eyes, but he was coming out empty. They tried to find the murder weapon by looking at different meta-humans, criminals, and colleagues. HR almost called the Flash. They’ve designated different boards to different theories and different pathways, but each theory stopped because of the information from DeVoe’s office or because they couldn’t answer any more questions. 

Every time a theory would get closer to making sense something else wouldn’t. The motive wouldn’t make sense—because there doesn’t seem to be a motive. Doctor Snow never stopped working for Eobard. There was no evidence that Eobard even knew about the videos by Doctor Snow. There was no weapon—something even the police can’t answer. Everyone in the lab, including Caitlin, knew the markings was from a Frost but there are no more Frosts. The Flash was certain of it. Every argument and counterargument made HR’s head spin. HR knew Eobard did something, but he couldn’t just share his intuitions. 

The days before the trial seem to fly by around HR and the more he stares at his boards and his research the more he wanted to shove everything to the ground. He’s never been a person to express rage and hates the idea that others take out frustrations on objects around them. Answers have been buried deep in the papers and recesses of research, but he’s never had to throw things to the ground. He’s faced horrifying people in court—staring them down and still held his calm. HR had stood in battle against meta-humans and almost lost her in the incident in STAR Labs, but he never let his rage get the best of him. And yet, he’s going to her office yelling at her and he’s seeing notes from DeVoe’s office with her signature and he’s prepared to go on a rage. As the frustration built up in his throat, HR gripped the railing in front of him hoping to bend it under his grip. 

As his song ended, he heard the laughter again with the hustle of the restaurants near him and finally let him register his surroundings. The sun sunk lower in the horizon and the clouds started to rumble. The city beside him, across the bridge was bustling with bright lights and excited crowds.

This restaurant makes the best blueberry pies, she had told him once when she dragged him away from his work. He had been groaning and grunting the entire time at home. He was scribbling on papers and scratching out his words and crumbling paper with the hope that his frustration would make the case make sense. He was on his nth cup of tea and he was beginning to complain about the weakness of the tea. It was too late to go for a run she had said. It was too dark, and he always went the longest distances when he was in these moods she had reminded him. So, they had grabbed their coats and went on a walk. It was a slow walk and she didn’t try to pry any information. It was silent in the beginning and she begun conversing for them. But then, he talked, and she listened and nodded along to his arguments. She painted new pictures and he felt his heart snuggle back into place. 

They had wandered far from their home and found themselves in the middle of crowds. She didn’t let him go home easily that day—instead, they talked about each other. They talked about Cisco. They talked about writing the book. He tried to convince her to run away to the countryside and surround themselves with books and the smell of fresh baked bread. Then, she saw the restaurant. She rushed him instead and ordered a large serving of their special blueberry pie for the two of them. They stole pieces from each other and sipped on big glasses of wine and they went back to their first date again and the warmth swam around him. He let himself think about her, about them, and about home and everything managed to make sense. 

The breeze sent shivers through his wet shirt and he bounced on his feet trying to build his pace again and brought his watch back to life. He may not have forgotten the case on his run this time, but he was willing to call her. He wanted to apologize about his explosion at her office and about the underhanded comment about her parents. There were so many apologizes and stories playing on his lips. Every time he’s seen her at the courthouse, he’s wanted to tell her that he missed her. He didn’t just want to stand next to her to fight a case, he wanted to go home with her and share her laughter. HR missed their home and his missed her Sunday bake days. There were times when he was standing in STAR Labs, staring at his work and call her to admit he was having a hard time. Somewhere in his mind, he was convinced that she would still try to help him.

But really, he just wanted to hear her voice.

Taking in large deep breaths, HR turned his pace into a run. With the rain beginning its pour, he carried himself through the streets either trying to convince himself to call her or to keep going to find an escape.

\---

It was a special late night at the STAR Labs museum. It was one of the special events she’s seen advertised around town and the newspapers. It’s been a year since she’s found herself in the hallways that have been mapped in her mind and he was still gathering her confidence to go inside. She knows the permanent exhibition and Cisco’s favourite place to hide out when Randolph is trying to impress. She knows her favourite spot where she would watch the trees outside with HR. She could measure the distance and the route to her favourite room, the Cortex as Cisco likes to call it. It was her second home. And yet, she hasn’t let herself go inside. 

STAR Labs wasn’t closed to her after her falling out with HR, she just never allowed herself to enjoy it. In the beginning, she wrapped the memories from the lab in a bow in her mind for the times she needed to cheer herself up. The photos were in her phone and in that time, those were enough to motivate herself through the case. She had originally convinced herself to go to the lab right after her win but then she started doing her background check on Eobard. And then, Eobard walked into her office.

So, she took the idea of the lab and kept it away. Cisco’s invited her every time. He would send her personalized mail for the newest exhibition. He’s flooded her emails with special nights for the one-night events. He’s even sent her messages just asking her to come. The lab misses you, Cisco had said. She made sure to follow the reviews of every event and conference but kept herself away. She had convinced herself that it would be a disrespect to take her flaws and her baggage through it. So, instead, she let herself see it from the parking lot and enjoy the pouring of people enjoying Cisco’s work. 

She was being a coward. 

She didn’t want to let herself see what she was missing, and she didn’t want to face the fact she gave it up intentionally—at least in the beginning. She didn’t want to consider herself a sentimental person, it was something she worked away from in law school when she saw how fighting cases actually worked. Professors and seniors had reminded her to never take anything to her heart. She was supposed to see everything, even relationships—because work comes first—from a distance. And then, there was HR. With his wide eyes, his excitement, his positivity, and his intense need to help the people. He reminded her when she came into law in the first place. Flourishing in law was an ode to her parents for her to become the best while being useful—for the ones who needed the help. HR’s accusation still echoed in her ears. She didn’t know how to explain to him that to become the best she had to give up something. 

Checking her watch, she took in a deep breath and gave her steering wheel one last squeeze before finally getting out of her car and walking into STAR labs. The air rushed around her as her eyes adjusted to the room. The lights were bright, and a quiet lull bounced around. The special exhibition night is always for special members. New research about World War M filled the room. Samples of minerals and rocks were under glass boxes. Some shone with bright streaks of energy and some special artifacts were enclosed in circular tubes. Patterns of injuries from the Frosts flashed on screens while a simulation showed the actual process played periodically. She watched the patterns form and disappear, noticing familiar styles from the pictures of the crime scene. As more members gathered around the artifacts, she measured the rooms. 

Some rooms remained closed as she paced around the floors, breathing in the familiarity she missed. The building welcomed her, she fit back in like a puzzle piece. As her smile grew bigger and wider, she bit her lower lip and took in the differences. There was more information about his new projects and walls were covered with recognition of his work in the Science field. She rolled her eyes at the mention of Randolph. As the large trees outside the big window walls shivered in the wind and members were getting ready to leave, her eyes froze on the elevator across from her. It was the restricted elevator, the only elevator that went downstairs. The elevator that needed a special key. 

Shuffling through her bag, she pulled out her old keycard. _It wouldn’t work, it's been too long,_ her mind whispered to her. Letting out a sigh, she glanced around her and sped closer to the elevator. At least, she’ll know how many changes there have been since she stopped coming. Staring at the screen in front of her, she bit her lip and took in a deep breath, holding it in. She didn’t realize how much her hand was shaking until she rested the card against the screen. A loud gasp left her mouth when the elevator dinged. 

The lower floors were just as she remembered them. The walls still had the same red tints. STAR Labs’ name was stamped on the wall near her. The words Research and Design were stamped on the corner of the hallway. Her steps travelled through the halls, remembering the first time HR brought her through the building. HR was explaining the time the building was still under construction. He had stories about the time Cisco kept trying to make them change the building to his liking. He had also creating different secret rooms for himself and his research—hidden from Randolph. She stood in front of a piece of wall that lead to the time vault. After the particle exploded, Cisco kept them safe in the vault. Then, the War hit Central City and the Flash packed the room with the injured and other meta-humans. Cisco kept weapons, bandages, and food stocked up while he busied himself with HR to work on helping the effort. She worked out of that room nursing everyone back to health and. 

Her fingertips lightly brushed where the door was hidden, and she cleared her throat, focusing her mind.

Turning herself toward the Cortex, her feet slowed. As the surrounding settled around her, she remembered Cisco’s usual routine. HR could be a few feet away from her. Cisco never worked alone after-hours. Cisco would be tinkering in his office in the Cortex, but HR would be keeping his eye on new meta-human reports. He would be focused on collecting data for the Flash. He would be noting down intel for new recruits or for new problems. As the world continued to recuperate from the years long war, the Flash was still preparing for the next one. He also could be working on his cases. He would be spinning his drumstick in one hand while together with Cisco trying to come up new case strategies and new perspectives. One of them would be playing the negative and the other on defence. She loved watching them work, their strategies never compared to the work she’s studied but she knew they always produced results. Cisco was never alone in the lab and her feet were unwilling to move further.

They hadn’t spoken since they were arguing in the office. His words were still echoing in her head. She remembered his whispers. She remembered the way his eyes begged her when he called her Jaan. It reminded her of every time they watched each other smiles before turning away towards their commute to work. She remembered how he whispered it to her when he pulled her into a hug after winning a tough case. She remembered gripping onto him, sobbing into his arms, throwing the word at him, when he finally came back from the Central City streets that were under attack. Clearing her head, she watched the light peeking through the Cortex and straightened her back. She wasn’t there to argue, she was there as a friend and she wasn’t going to run away when she’s finally gotten so close. She wasn’t a coward. 

She cleared her throat as she stood under the doorway, “am I interrupting?” 

Cisco looked up mid-sentence and his face broke into a smile as he rushed over to her with his arms wide open.

“You came! You _finally_ came!” He wrapped her in his embrace and she hung onto him a little tighter than she usually did before. They still saw each other. There were little Jitters meeting scattered around their calendars. He would share his ideas about his concoctions on a lab grown coffee bean. He was filled with stories about his lab and his new research. She listened to his stories of Randolph and his complete anger at his every decision. Cisco told her how close he was to revealing to the world that he was the real brain—but then remembered he needed Randolph’s money.

They never talked about HR. They had entirely too much of everything else to sit in silence with HR hanging in the air. But, every meeting, Cisco reminded her that her office was still waiting for her. He told her about her books gathering dust as they lay untouched. And she always came up with an excuse. 

“It still works,” she flashed the card at Cisco.

“I told you it would. I can’t believe you’d actually think I’d change it!” 

“You always have updates!”

“I don’t need your physical card for the updates” She flashed him a smile and tucked her card back in her purse, giving it a pat.

“I’ll keep it safe.” Cisco nodded at her, “I feel like I’m interrupting.” 

“Not at all, you know how it is, it's just constantly working.” Cisco faced the pair staring at them and held his hat and while pointing at each person, introducing them. “This is Doctor Barry Allen. He’s this big name at the hospital and at the disease centre.” Barry waved his hand at her with a shy smile. “And this is Doctor Caitlin Snow. She won’t tell you but she’s this big name in artificial intelligence.” Caitlin and she stared at each other. Caitlin didn’t flash a smile or a nod. She felt Caitlin was noticing every little detail and watching her nervous ticks. If she was feeling anger, Caitlin didn’t show it.

“And this is—”

“Eobard’s lawyer.” Caitlin interrupted and crossed her arms. Her eyes narrowed as she squirmed under her stare.

“Right…that’s—yeah, you’re right. I wanted to talk to you Cisco, if you have the time?”

“Of course, come to my office.” She kept her eyes low as she followed Cisco. Caitlin’s eyes followed her every step and shivers travelled through her body as she tightened her grip on her purse. There’s never been a problem facing her opposition, she’s managed to learn how to keep her personal and her professional reactions separate. But, staring Caitlin in the eyes she felt small and powerless. The confidence she had built up in the car had disappeared. 

“You’re okay?” Cisco asked. “You seem nervous.”

“I didn’t want to do it over the phone.” Cisco tilted his head, watching her sway. “I shouldn’t be doing this but during my last case with Thawne, I found some information and I can't use it for myself but maybe you could use it.” She placed a package in Cisco’s hands and he shuffled through the papers.

“This is Doctor Snow’s research notes on the meta-humans?” His eyes were taking in all the numbers on the pages and skimming through the paragraphs, “he was researching the explosion? Even the police didn’t find these. Did you—you hacked into them?” 

“I’m not exactly sure but,” she ignored his question and cleared her throat, “but it could help you through the research.”

“Why are you giving us this?” 

She took in a large breath, her fingers tightened around the strap of her bag. “I don’t know either. But, maybe you can use it better than we can. Doctor Snow was researching meta-humans, maybe someone got mad.” 

“Maybe Thawne got mad, like he thought he would.”

“Thawne isn’t a meta-human.”

“Are you sure?”

“People don’t just become meta-humans, Cisco.” Cisco stared at her as she ran a hand through her hair.

“You’re sure?”

“Either way, I thought you could use that.” 

“Is this supposed to help us or supposed to throw us off his scent?”

“I wouldn’t do that, Cisco.”

“It depends if you’re here as his lawyer or—”

“Oh, come on, Cisco!” 

“Stop fighting his case!”

“It was either me or someone else!"

“I wish it was someone else.” Cisco whispered. Her shoulders lowered as they stared at each other. 

Throughout the entire separation, they hadn’t let themselves grow apart. They didn’t sneak around HR either. In between their visits, he had tried to ingrain thoughts of making up with HR. He was doing the same thing with HR when he would see him in her office staring at her books and the pictures they had amassed over the years. He was the one who had put the ring HR picked out in his bag and HR continued to keep that ring in his bag. He’d pat the box as if trying to collect the courage a little bit more every day. Cisco knew they both wondered about each other as they would try to sneak small questions about each other in their conversations but never got around to actually facing each other.

Cisco had convinced HR to talk to her during their inter-dimensional travel case and he watched HR take extra care with his outfits and making sure his tie was extra snug. It was supposed to the step in the right direction. 

She cleared her throat, “anyway, I promise this isn’t some wild goose chase but it it turns out to be no good then it is what it is,” 

Nodding, Cisco put the papers back and noticed her eyes wandering around the lab. Her eyes wandered around the room, finally taking it in. It was the same as she had last seen it. The same organized mess was scattered around the room with different in-progress projects filling in the spaces. Blueprints and half completed plans were in rolled into a box. Cisco had a habit of beginning projects he knows he can’t complete and coming back to them when he gets even the slightest idea. 

Along with the boards filled and research filling up the room, photographs decorated parts of the room. A part of a corner wall was filled with a growing collection of photographs. His desk had smaller frames arranged in a quick, specific array. A few photos were tucked in the corners of the boards. Cisco had always tried to explain that he was not a nostalgic person, but the photos were always his idea. Her eyes jumped from one photo to the next. Some were blurry—they were special stolen moments. They were unevenly divided around the room, but HR and Cisco had picked each photo specifically. A photo of Cisco’s graduating photo was tucked in corner of a board. There was a photo of Cisco with the mayor of Central City after the war. The collage on the wall had a picture of HR in a graduation cap with Cisco throwing a thumbs up. Cisco and HR were standing in front of an under-construction STAR Labs in another photo. The three of them tried to create a pattern on the wall but she could see exactly where they gave up.

There was a picture of the three of them sitting in a frame on a table. They were standing in front of a small Christmas in the Cortex. HR and she had decorated a last-minute tree for Cisco when he had a falling out with his family. They were busy giggling with each other that they never heard Cisco wander into the room with wide eyes and no words. He had kept glancing between the unfinished tree and his friends. They had cancelled their flight to stay closer with their friend. Cisco still swears he did cry that day, but his teary eyes were caught by the camera. 

As her eyes lingered on the photo, Cisco walked up to her.

“It might be one of my favourites.” Cisco said.

“It was a good one.”

“Come back more often, the lab misses you.” Cisco whispered.

“You always say that.” 

“And, I always mean it.” She flashed him a smile. 

“It’ll be easier now, it's always the first time that’s the hardest.”

“I know. I’ll be expecting you more.” She watched Barry and Caitlin rustle around the papers.

“You should clean around, it looks crazy.” 

“You always say that.” Cisco echoed.

“I always mean it.” She gave him wink as she walked away. Her heart told her to walk towards Barry and Caitlin. Her mind tugged towards the door. She was ready to do a quick getaway. Standing in the middle of the Cortex made her feel exposed. She couldn’t come up with a defence if Caitlin said something. The only way she had learned to keep her personal and professional lives so separate was to never involve herself in the lives of her clients or in the lives of the opposition. She very rarely had the opportunity to look at her opposition outside of the courtroom. She’s already got the accusations of everyone on her soul, she didn’t know if she was prepared to hear Caitlin’s. Throughout researching the case, she had kept Caitlin and the entire family in the back of her mind. 

It was a happy family. A small, content family. Her father had risen to the top with his researches in the university and then to the military, and then in the private market. Their name was a title, although they never held it above them. Doctor Snow spoke about promoting the sciences in the general public and he kept his doors opened to the new fresh minds in science. His research changed from simply genetics to meta-human genetics. He had spoken out about the use of meta-humans in war and begun his own research which led to working with Eobard Thawne. Doctor Snow spoke against World War M—calling it unnecessary and a waste of human life. He was referenced on how to defeat the meta-humans, but he refused. All his actions proved that someone held a grudge against him and he was on the list of too many dangerous people. 

Her mother’s work with the health, safety and biodefense protected so many people during World War M. There were rumours and reports of the release of specific pathogens against the humans working with the meta-humans. She helped create safer methods on defeating the other side and helped produce better antibodies and antidotes of the ones fighting with the Flash. She was reported to be managing both her own practice and her work with the government. She also spoke against World War M and defended her work when she was accused of profiteering from the War. She stood by her husband’s side whenever Thawne was accused of something. They had their own world the entire time, happy with themselves, thriving with each other. 

There were rumours that Doctor Snow had changed his mind on the War because of his daughter. Caitlin was the loudest of her family to speak against the War. After being requested and then demanded for her work with bioengineering and artificial intelligence, she refused to help the war effort. Instead, she put herself on the front lines, nursing people to health and making sure people were able to go home instead of back on the field. She fought in her own way to stop the War and it is rumoured she was still in the works of using her technology to help the survivors and the veterans. There wasn’t a fight that Caitlin wasn’t willing to fight, and she was ready to do what she needed to get what she wanted. 

DeVoe had begun running out of ideas on how to build up Thawne against the Snows. Even without the expensive status, The Snows had become a proud name. Even with the previous case against Thawne, Doctor Snow was able to keep the air clear around him. The world has seen an image of Thawne and DeVoe’s been trying to bring the Snows down to his level. Something she’s repeatedly stood against. DeVoe divided the office to find the bad and the ugly about the Snows—coming up empte. So, he decided to dig himself. He shuffled through Doctor Snow’s computer and files. He looked at each experiment and each little note left in the margins of pages. He sent people to watch the mother and the daughter. He spoke to their references. DeVoe looked at work relationships and watched their interactions. Instead of building a case for Thawne, DeVoe had consumed himself on building a case against the Snows—anything for their fall. 

As he had kept looking, he found researches and experiments conducted by Doctor Snow. They were tucked under strict lockdown with Thawne Industries and she busied herself to keep him off that scent. To take away his attention on the family, she made up problems with Thawne’s case. She messed up his timeline, she created false, circumstantial, ambiguous evidence against Thawne. If she wasn’t fighting for Caitlin, she wasn’t letting DeVoe ruin her name or her father’s name. 

As she found herself in the same room as Caitlin, she wanted to reassure her that she would not let DeVoe or Thawne hurt the family anymore. But, that would be more for her sake that Caitlin’s. 

Keeping her eyes from facing Caitlin, she approached Barry, giving him a soft pat on his back. 

“It was nice meeting you, Dr. Allen. I can’t wait to read all about your new research!” Barry’s smile lit up the entire room. He shuffled on his feet and scratched the back of his head.

“Please, it’s Barry. Doctor Allen was my father. I’m hoping to get out the research published sooner.” 

“It’s to do with the meta-human gene, right?”

“Yes, the meta-gene. It’s kind of crazy how far we’re coming along with it.” As Barry explained his research, she felt Caitlin catching glances at her. Caitlin had busied herself with papers in front of her, but her fingers began to dig in the sides as she focused on her breath. She had been waiting for a face to face with her. HR had explained her courtroom tactics. Caitlin’s seen her in court the last time with Thawne and she had been saving up her opinions. Caitlin isn’t a person to scream at someone. She never believed that explaining her frustrations through anger was an effective way to get the point across. She also believed in giving the person the benefit of the doubt.

Yet, this time, she wanted to demand answers. She wanted to tell her all her thoughts and about the moment she saw her father. Caitlin wanted to make her walk through that exact moment with her. Caitlin wanted to tell her how she felt when she was burying her father while knowing she was had to fight to make the killer would pay. 

She’s seen the detailed paperwork on Thawne’s defence. 

She’s seen the requested medical evaluations on her father. There were requests on checking his previously published researches. They had submitted the requests on her father’s psychological evaluation after the War. HR had been explaining how they could use the information against her father and Caitlin just wanted to ask Thawne’s lawyer if she understood the pain. 

Instead, she ripped through the paper. 

Caitlin watched her walk away from Barry with a bright smile and send a wave to Cisco. If there was tension on her shoulders, Caitlin couldn’t see it. 

“See you in court.” Caitlin’s voice came out colder than she wanted. Caitlin wanted to make sure her focus was on her father before she left the Cortex. Freezing by the door, she turned to face Caitlin. The ripped paper was still in Caitlin’s grip and her stare remained stoic and unwavering. A shiver went up her spine as they kept their eyes locked. Her breath suddenly felt cold and her mind forgot the possible words to say. With a dry throat, she cleared her throat, still squirming under Caitlin’s gaze.

“R—right, yes…” her voice almost cracked, “in court, of course—see you then.” She cleared her throat and turned back towards the exit, crashing into the body turning into the Cortex. 

HR stood in front of her with wide eyes, shirtless, and trying to catch his breath. His shirt was stuck tightly in his grip and his hair was slicked back. Drops of water slid down his chest and collected on the floor as they stood frozen in each other’s gaze. His gasps were quiet and quick, and his headphones echoed the song that was still playing. As everyone else around them blurred, HR took in her messy high pony tail. She had a few strands curving her face. Her smooth, grey sweater hugged her at all the right places and HR tried to keep himself from staring, but his eyes kept trying to save every little detail. 

All her worry of seeing him at the Cortex disappeared. He wouldn’t look away, he had wrapped her up in his gaze. All his stress of seeing her after their fight at DeVoe’s office disappeared. HR felt a load lighten on his shoulders as she stood in front of him. Suddenly, for that minute, the world seemed to make sense to them. Everything they wanted to say to each other came rushing back.

She wanted to warn him about the case and he wanted to swoop her up in his arms and never let her go. She wanted to tell him how she kept intentionally throwing DeVoe off because she wanted him to win.

She also wanted to tell him that she still can’t make his famous casserole—something is always missing.

HR wanted to apologize. He wanted to take back everything he said to her last and ask for a fresh start. He wanted to tell her that he would do anything for her if it meant he didn’t have to fight against her—he was willing to dance to anything she wanted. He also wanted to tell her this is harder without her.

More than anything, they wanted to cup each other’s face in their hands and lean foreheads together and finally take a long, relaxing, calming breath. 

“Did you find your answers?” Cisco broke through their thoughts. 

Their gaze ripped away from each other and she noticed her lingering hand on his lower chest. As she pulled her hand back, a shiver ran through his chest. 

“No, not all of them,” HR looked back at her, “I found some.” 

“A good run either way then?” 

“Definitely, it was perfect.”

“You’re dripping.” She finally spoke up

Letting out a chuckle, “yeah, I just had to get caught up in the rain.” HR’s voice found a quiet whisper, just for her. 

“Just the way you like it.” She was smiling at him and HR’s entire mood lightened up. The room illuminated around him and there was another relief on his shoulders. She remembered.

“I could have done without the thunder.” HR ran his fingers through his hair and the overhead light defined his jawline even more and she tried to keep her eyes from staring. And, then she registered what he said. 

“How many times do I need to remind you to not run in the thunder?!” As HR stammered for his next response, Cisco busied himself with Barry and Caitlin to keep himself from laughing.

“I was doing it for the rain, it was a nice challenge!” 

She scoffed. “You know how dangerous that is, right?”

“I mean,” HR gave her a smirk, “it worked with the Flash?” She gave him a light push.

“That was a freak accident!” She turned to Cisco. “Cisco tell him the Flash thing is not common.”

HR watched Cisco with raised eyebrows and she waited for him to jump to her defence.

“I am not involved in this, this is all on you two.” She scoffed at him, but Cisco turned away from them trying to hide his smile. The banter was usual. Cisco knew HR thrived on it. He loved it when they dropped everything just to nitpick at each other. They’ve paused case researches and missed calls when they were in between their usual rows. Cisco had a running score.

She had won the previous ‘no running in the thunder’ argument. 

“I had no other way to get back, I had to do something.” 

“You could have taken a cab.”

“Cars aren’t any safer in lightening.”

“You could have stayed in a cafe.” HR wanted to slip into the restaurant and help himself to the blueberry pie. But, he promised himself that he would come back with her, so they could enjoy it together instead.

“I was so close!”

“How far were you?” They were in each other’s space; the distance had become none-existent. HR ran his hand through his hair and she watched him. 

“Five kilo—maybe 10.” He squirmed under her stare, “okay, it was 15 kilometres, it wasn’t that bad!”

“I can’t believe you. You have a death wish, HR. Cisco, tell him how bad it is!” 

“Again, I am not getting between this!” Letting out a groan, she faced HR who shrugged his shoulders with a wink. 

"I promise I was careful, Jaan.” 

"You’re never careful with your runs. Forgetting your water, trying new trails without knowing the distance, travelling so far that you come home so late.” 

Home hung in the air.

"I needed this run, I had to clear my head.” 

She finally realized his tired eyes. The rain and the drops had managed to cover his stress. The messy writing around the Cortex, the numerous filled boards, and the mountain of scattered papers finally made sense.

Cisco worked like that, HR did not. 

She’s seen him work before and he never liked working in the same space as her. She liked her papers scattered—even the ones she had discarded. Loose papers need to be around her with colourful bookmarks. Books need to be opened to specific pages around her. She needed the mess and everything at the tips of her fingers. Her space would only get clean at the end of the day only to explode the next day. 

For HR, his space was mind. He didn’t need more than one board to visualize his case. Papers needed to have a specific place on his table and he needs to know where to find something if he needed it—not buried. His notes had to be clear and clean. The board needs to help him draw a line from one dot to the next with the extra information being disregarded periodically. HR is an organized lawyer. He is a visualize lawyer. 

The most scattered his room was, the less it made sense to him. The only time he would let the room be a mess of information was if he was overwhelmed with information and time. Books would remain opened and untouched while he would pace, trying to organize information in his mind. He would write anything that would make sense in a hurry to keep it from flying away. He would be at breakfast writing notes on the napkins near him. He would leave his food midway to check on a new idea. The more he let himself be buried with information, the heavier his shoulders got.

So, he would run away. He would run through the night, under the trees, under the setting sun, with blaring music screaming in his ears to let him restart his mind. He’d run in the rain, panting as he got further away from home. He’d run in the snow, shivering and trying to think of a new outlook to his cases. Sometimes, she wondered if he only came back because she was waiting for him. She made sure he would send periodic messages of the song he was on or the sight he just passed—her way of making sure he knew he had to come back. 

One night, he didn’t respond. He didn’t come back either—not during his usual time. He let himself run further away, retracing his same route numerous times until his music stopped and the traffic disappeared. He sprinted that night. He walked. Then, he changed to a jogged. He kept his breath hitched up in his throat making sure his mind only focused on his pace. His feet ached that night, his body screamed for rest, and yet he came back with a spring in his step with an olive branch. She didn’t look at him that night and he made her a coffee and cut a piece of her favourite pie and explained his entire strategy for his case—the strategy that helped him win. 

He ran a hand through his hair, calming his breath, and straightened his back.

“HR—”

"It won’t happen again.” His voice lowered to a whisper. "You can hold me accountable to that.” The distance between them disappeared. His eyes seemed extra blue and full of life. She liked getting lost in his eyes as she tried to find the answers to him. She wanted to know what made him so calm. She wanted to know how much love he could possibly have for her, even after all this time. There was a softness in his stare, the way he would watch her when she was explaining her case to him. His gaze would follow her, and her hand gestures and it felt like the only thing that existed was her.

She wanted to reach over to him and finally hold him in her hands. She wanted to hold him and never let go. 

Instead, she cleared her throat and whispered, only to him, “I should get going.”

“I’ll walk you back.” _Stay._ He wanted to say. 

“No, it’s okay.” She rested his hand on his arm, "I won’t be able to leave then.” He didn’t want her to let go.

As she walked away, he called out to her.

“Jaan?” He didn’t want her to go. 

“Yeah?” 

“You were staring.” As she turned to face him, a small smile was playing on his lips. He suddenly looked more relaxed.

Hiding her smile, she responded, “shut up. Get yourself cleaned up, you’re going to catch a cold.”

“I already sneezed a few times coming down here. I might need the special soup.” 

“You just might, Jaan.” She flashed him a while as she turned around the corner back to the elevator. 

The special soup. Their special soup. HR still hadn’t found a way to make it perfect just the way she does—even when she was watching him go through the recipe. There was also a spice missing or the vegetables didn’t feel perfect. There were too many times than he would like to admit that he tried to make it during their separation and he was very close to calling her. The soup was his saving grace when he was sick. It was his quick fix and it always tasted better when she was sitting beside him. She would stroke his hand while he sipped the soup down and he was convinced it was her warmth that made him feel better.

HR never found out where the idea of the soup came from. It was a particular winter night where he had himself wrapped in a blanket trying to battle a cold and hoping to find some sleep. They had just only introduced each other as significant others to their colleagues. They were still just learning about each other and falling in love with each other. They were slowly becoming each other’s support. He had retraced his day to her that night. He had tried to make tea, but it still felt too cold. He tried to watch a movie, but the sound kept pounding his head. He tried to work to get his mind off his cold, but his fingers shivered too much to let him write. She listened when he told her that every food in his fridge made his nauseous. He had given up hope on sleep that night until she arrived vegetables in hand. She brought in warmth. She filled his home with an aroma calmed him. 

Then, she gave him the soup. It was only enough for him, but she sat with him as he sipped away ever little drop. Her eyes never left him. The warmth of her hand left him as she helped him fall asleep. 

The soup was his comfort. She was his saving grace. He was willing to do what he could to have that back, so he could have it a little bit longer. 

\---

A soft Frank Sinatra vinyl filled her room. The smell of the sauce was filling the room around her as she scanned the shelves in front of her. She had dedicated a large portion of the wall to her books. They were kept in different blocks with other shelves with memorabilia. They used to hold more framed pictures—pictures of them but she had tried to redecorate. She had placed them in a small box away from anything else, so she could let herself concentrate on something else. But, somewhere in her mind she could still visualize the box and its exact contents.

Maybe it was her way of staying hopeful.

She moved to her kitchen and stirred in her pasta. She passed by the only image she let herself keep in her space. A blurry picture of them laughing each other. They were dressed in what was left of their best looks. HR had his tie loosened and her hair was slipping out of her hairdo. The stress of the party was forgotten, and the buzz of the wine had hit them. They were lost in each other’s company and in each other awful jokes. She knew it was a rainy day. He had given her his coat before they left. They hated the food at the party and managed to slip out early to order pizza for themselves. He had managed to sneak a wine bottle with them for the special, exquisite taste he had said. They had passed the night flipping through numerous topics and cracking jokes at everyone from the party. That night he had stayed longer, and she had promised to never let him go after that. 

And yet, she did. 

That night he didn’t walk away just because of an argument. It was the incessant arguments they found themselves in. They had begun stepping around each other. She would stay longer at work, so she didn’t have to face his questions. He had stayed at STAR Labs longer, so they didn’t share more awkward silences. They said unforgivable things each other to that night. She called him a coward. He called her egoistic. He called blind to Thawne’s charms and she called him weak. They tried to show each other their opinions. They tried to play their perspectives for each other, so they could stop arguing. They tried find a middle ground but HR’s conscious kept seeing a different image than her. 

She didn’t regret becoming partner. She always knew she would have to climb a long, harsh ladder to get there. It was always her goal since the first day she joined DeVoe’s team as a junior associate. She wanted her name on his wall from the moment she found herself in the interview. Her parents taught to dream big and achieve whatever she wanted. So, she stayed at the office longer. Associates went to drinks and she sipped on more coffee as she researched more cases and prepared herself in the history of the firm. She took the hardest cases. She took the easiest cases. She drowned herself in each case and made them a part of her. With more cases, she brought in more wins and found herself in DeVoe’s office more. She received the firm’s biggest clients and kept her newspapers open to every new case, so she would have the most current information before their daily meetings. The more she spoke up the more she impressed. She missed her dates, she slowly lost a balance between work and personal life. 

She told herself that she’d let herself breathe as she got a promotion.

Then, in less than a year, her attitude promoted her from junior associate to senior and she kept working. 

DeVoe gave her more high-profile cases. The cases were bigger priority with a bigger fall back. More money was involved with more danger. The clients and their actions became more ambiguous and she kept her conscious away from the office the more she grew. Her office space grew, and she stayed poised instead of focusing on the success. Her goal still wasn’t reality. 

But, she had finally let herself take a breath. She let her relationship with HR grow. He became her balance and he became her calm. She took more time for herself. She took more time for HR. She became content. 

Then, Eobard flew in. He brought in the career changing case she had been waiting for since she entered the industry. She had sat in class listening to cases like his. It was the most controversial, it was more advertised, and it had the biggest opinions. She brought out her best. With everyone afraid to touch his case, Eobard noticed her and told DeVoe to keep her on the case. With his recognition, she worked more and convinced herself that a guilty man wouldn’t be focusing on smaller lawyers. She convinced herself she was fighting for justice the more he listened to her and the more she lost herself in his conversations. The case kickstarted her battle for her goals again. She became angry at her contentment of shelving her goals while Eobard never stopped fighting for his dreams. 

She missed out on dinners with Cisco and the trips to STAR Labs got shorter. She drowned herself in her work, but HR continued to fill in the blanks for her about Eobard. She chose to be blind to the inconsistencies Eobard brought with him. 

She saw the partner seat and did whatever she could to get there. 

She didn’t regret the seat. She was a voice against everyone. Her hard work had paid off. 

But, she was lonely. 

She wished it was different circumstance and a different case to help her get her there. She wished she still had the pictures around her home. She wished she still had someone to teach her the perfect casserole and she still had someone to share her special soup. Cisco had photographs around the Cortex and she suddenly felt bare without them. 

She knew she just had to apologize but she also wanted him to apologize. She had been playing with the idea of an apology in her mind since her last lunch with Cisco weeks ago. Cisco always had a way of slipping HR into their conversations. He told her HR was still heartbroken without her. Cisco told her that he still paid attention to her cases and still waited outside the courtroom just to catch a glimpse of her. Over the months, she had convinced herself that he was still angry, and he had found a way to find a different happiness. And then, they shared a tea. They shared a gaze she found herself back to wishing for the past. 

She wanted to tell him that he was right—she had strayed from her real purpose. She wanted to him the truth about everything and the threats surrounding her. 

The way he laid his eyes on her made the world under her feet disappear. She wanted to run away with him. His gaze made her want to rewind their last year and make different choices—screw whatever happened to the world. There were nights when she fiddled with the thought of calling him and tell him that she made herself run away before everything got too good for her. Eobard was never the real culprit. She couldn’t handle the fact that she was content, and things got too good for her that she thought she lost herself. 

Instead, she kept her phone away from her and promised herself that after this case, this last case, she would do anything to find him again. 

She was about to pour her pasta into her plate when the bell rang through the house. Catching a look at her watch she opened the door. 

Eobard stood in her doorway with his hands tucked in his jacket and a smirk playing on his lips. Her hands froze on the door with her breath stuck in her throat. A shiver went through the room and climbed up her spine. 

“Something smells really good,” Eobard walked through the door. Her gaze followed himself inside as she paced behind him. Eobard busied himself with her plate and poured himself a glass of wine. Placing the food on the counter, she sat down in front of him and Eobard pulled out a gun and placed it beside pasta plate. Her body went stiff and her lips trembled as her gaze froze on the weapon. Her heart beat so fast that it threatened to jump out of her chest. Taking a sip of the wine, Eobard smiled at her. His blue eyes pierced through her. 

“It’s been about a year since our last conversation, right?” He began eating, not touching his gun. She stayed silent and let the room fill with his movements and the subtle, calming sounds of Sinatra. 

“The option for dinner still stands you know.”

Her eyes never wavered from the gun. His voice was blending into the room around her. 

“This is delicious.” He kept taking bites in between his statements. She offered no responses as her head felt heavy. She bit her lower lip as she tried to remember where she had placed her phone. Her hands were squeezed between her legs, trying to ground her. She tried to remember the panic app Cisco had made them if they were in trouble with meta-humans. Her mind tried to calculate the scenarios if she tried to reach for her phone. Cisco had made them a panic button too—upgrading it for the War when the wireless was damaged. 

It was in her purse.

Her purse was on the couch, steps away from her. She tried to measure her room around her, so she could pace herself properly. If anything were to happen, at least she could initiate the panic button.

“You know I hate to have conversations with myself, love.” Her head snapped to Eobard.

“What do you want me to say?” It was a whisper. She barely spoke over the sounds in her room. 

“Anything at all, I like hearing your voice.” It felt like all the wind outside had found itself in her room and she had no way to staying warm. He watched her shivering in her spot. “I’ll give you a topic. Why were you at STAR Labs?” She stared at him as he continued to sip his wine slowly. His eyes never wavered from her.

“How did you know?”

“I keep an eye on my assets.” He leaned his elbows on the counter and waited for her answer.

“I was—” she cleared her throat, “I was there for the World War M exhibit.”

“That was pretty late,” he motioned to the pasta on his plate, “this is pretty late.”

“You don’t know how I prepare for my cases.”

“That’s true, I don’t know much about you. But, I only wish to know more.” Another calm sip. “Why did you take the case?”

“It’s a—”

“It’s a job, of course. You said that before. Even Wells didn’t believe you. Why did you take it?” 

She didn’t respond, and her eyes wandered. There was a clear answer. She had the idea rummaging around her mind since she saw the crime scene photos, but she’s never had the nerve to come clean with anyone. HR had his frustrations and she knew it was better he thought she was treating it as a job than anything else.

“You don’t think I did it.” Eobard read her mind. He had a smile playing on his lips. He was proud. Suddenly, she felt so bare around him. She squeezed her arms around her tighter and kept her mind from thinking anything. But, he kept watching. 

“You wouldn’t be this sloppy.” Her voice trembled. 

“Of course not, unless it was last minute, or I was angry.” Eobard ate a piece of the farfalle pasta with his fingers. Licking the sauce off his thumb and keep her gaze, “and I’m not an angry man.” 

“But you’re involved. Somehow. I’m sure of it.” 

“Is that why you went to STAR Labs?” She gulped back her heart and counted her breaths.

“I went to see the exhibit.”

Eobard chuckled and sipped back the remainder of his wine, “either way you’re thinking too much. You’re working too hard and you don’t have to spread yourself thin.”

“Excuse me?”

“I heard from DeVoe about your efforts. You’ve been pulling files and looking into Doctor Snow. You’re also pulling all-nighters.” He leaned closer to her. “I appreciate your effort. That’s why I ask for you. But, I want you to enjoy your time. You can take it easy.” She searched for answers in his eyes, but they only gazed back into her mind.

“What did you do, Eobard?” 

“That’s for me to know.” He got up from his chair, leaving the gun still in the centre of the counter. She looked up at him as he stood beside her, “I don’t want this to be hard for each other. The food was great. Next time, we’ll plan it.” He grabbed the gun and paced back to the front door. She kept her pace slow and measured, trying not to follow right at his heels. She could finally feel air traveling through her lungs and her heart finally relaxing. Her fingers stopped tingling and the warmth in her home was slowly coming back. She could feel safe again, soon.

He stopped under the door, “I forgot something.” He turned towards her, grabbed her throat, and slammed her back against the wall. Tears welled up in her eyes and her breath hitched back into her throat. Her heart slammed against her chest and the floor under her feet disappeared. Her knees were weak, and her hands tried to grab his hand. His eyes were narrow, rigid, and cold. All the smug, pompous, playful flirting had disappeared, and her room began to tighten around her.

“I don’t like when people try to pry into places they don’t belong. You tried it and I let it go thinking we’d never see each other again. Your friends are trying it and they’re finding themselves in places they don’t belong or understand. I don’t like bugs in my system.” His face was pulled up close to her eyes and she couldn’t see anything else. “If they keep digging, I will deal with it.” He leaned the gun against the wall, near her cheek.

Eobard's voice had lowered to a whisper. “If Wells gets too close to my work, if they keep digging, if they raise even one more flag, if you lose my case, I will make sure you watch exactly how I kill him. Let the case play out and take the win,” the pressed the gun more into the wall, “if I wasn’t clear enough last time, if any of you come anywhere my stuff, I don’t wait for excuses and I don’t hold back.” Eobard let go of her throat and she wrapped her hands around her neck, coughing and gasping for air. 

“If this gets out, I won’t think twice. I’m not an angry man, I promise.” He stuffed the gun in his coat and slammed the door behind him. 

Her hands felt sweaty and her eyes kept blinking to focus her vision. She slid down the wall and wrapped her arms around her legs. Every action replayed in her as she considered every decision, and every walk she took. Her heart wanted to carry her out to HR’s place, but the shine of the gun flashed through her mind just like the knife never left and she just pulled her legs closer to her. 

She should have stayed the night at STAR Labs. 

\--- 

_The bell rang through the large room when HR entered the bookstore. The morning sun shone through the large windows along the sides. The store was practically empty the only sounds coming from the hushed tones from the employees. He noticed them trace their eyes on him and watch him get lost in the aisles. It was very rare for him to find himself in a bookstore first in the morning. His routine consisted of sitting at Jitters with a large cup of coffee getting lost in the newspaper. He always found himself wandering the aisles after finishing a long case—a treat for himself._

_HR still had his homemade coffee in his hand, but he couldn’t bring himself to read the newspaper. His current case was still spinning in his head and he still had no real answers for it. His strategies had been consistently shot down by himself and the face of his crying client kept popping up in his mind. There was an answer somewhere. Throwing back his now cold coffee, he tried to let him focus on the comforts of the books around him rather than focus on the chaos of the reality._

_He moved from the list of the new bestsellers to the classics—noticing any new printing of his favourites. He ignored the world of mysteries and passed through the self-help books. For the irony, he looked through the law exam books, hoping to find something. These books never really had any answers, only more convoluted teachings that still sometimes confused him. HR flipped through the book and the sound of heels walked by him. His followed the noise until it disappeared in a different aisle. He checked his watch again—maybe he wasn’t the only crazy one. Stuffing the law exam book back in its spot he stepped through the travel books and the musical history sections, trying to find a title that could calm his nerves. He was looking for inspiration, something that could kickstart his brain, so he could create new ideas, new possibilities that could answer an impossible case. He had made flow charts with the case and rephrased its contents to Cisco every night, but they kept coming back to the same conclusion—they had nothing._

_At this point, all he needed was another coffee._

_With his eyes wondering between different sections, he saw the woman in the heels._

_She was staring at the book as her eyes read the spines. Her basket was filled with books of various titles. The basket weighed her down from her arm and she kept shifting on her heels, trying to find a comfortable position without having to take off her heels entirely. Her hands tugged at her suit jacket and she took in a few deep breaths, as if to convince herself about the books in front of her. Her fingers ran through her curls and travelled across the titles. She turned her head to the side to read the spines properly. Her finger stopped at a book. HR noticed the title and his breath hitched up to his throat._

_That was the book he wanted—especially after the last case._

_She was pulling it out when he rushed through the aisle._

_“Are you getting that book?” Her head snapped to him and for a second HR lost himself in her eyes. Her hair was draped around her shoulders, the curls barely touching her cheeks. Her jawline was sharp and her eyes soft with surprise. She thought she was alone too. Her hand was frozen on the book when he walked closer to her._

_“What?” Her voice was soft and musical to HR’s confusing morning. She was almost whispering as if to not disturb anyone._

_HR pointed to the book halfway in her hand, “are you convinced you want that one?”_

_He noticed her take him in. Her eyes travelled from his eyes to his shoes. She noticed his bag slung over his shoulder, his clean-cut suit with his slightly aloof hair._

_“I—should I not want this one?”_

_“I already had my eyes on it.” HR shrugged his shoulders._

_“You got here after me.”_

_“I wasn’t expecting someone here first in the morning.” Her cheeks flushed as if HR read her mind. The store had been opened for a measly 30 minutes when she found herself entering the doors. She found herself travelling station to station and the more she got lost in the aisles the more she was able to calm her heartbeat that had been threatening to jump out of her chest since the moment she woke up. All morning, time felt like was spinning out of her hands but then she’d check her watch and she still had too much time. The planned routine didn’t make sense anymore—she woke up before her alarm thinking she overslept, her bed was still filled with all her clothes because her pre-planned outfit didn’t make sense anymore. Toasting bread seemed to take too long and the buttons on the coffee machine suddenly didn’t make sense to her. After convincing herself that she had no time and her watch reminding her otherwise, she found herself wandering inside a bookstore, trying to find her calm._

_She didn’t come inside with a plan in mind just calm her tensions. Apparently, her calm meant pacing every single aisle with the hope the books and their titles would speak to her._

_“Are you planning on buying the entire store?” She followed his eyes to her basket._

_“Oh no, I’m just—” she wasn’t expecting any conversations. The entire time she had been planning the introduction she would need when she would walk through the doors of the firm. “I’m just a nervous shopper.” He nodded, and she noticed his eyes flashing through the books in her basket._

_“You’re giving the law exam soon?” She finally noticed the massive exam preparation book for the law exam. She already had the book at home. Its corners were curled and it was filled with highlights and pencil markings._

_“No, crap,” she tried to fiddle with her books, “I already gave my exam and passed it. I don’t know why—” HR reached over and quickly pulled out the book she was staring at on the bookshelf._

_“That wasn’t really fair.”_

_“I mean no ill will, I just really want to read it. And you do have the entire bookstore in your hands.” She rolled her eyes and fixed her grip on the basket. The case had completely disappeared from his mind and the time had suddenly paused around him. HR couldn’t help himself but smile._

_“Is it your first day?” They found them walking together, “you’re starting at a firm today, I’m assuming?”_

_“Yeah, I’ve wanted to join it ever since law school and I still don’t know what they saw in me.” Their walk was a comfortable pace even though her heels had begun digging into her feet. She knew she should have travelled with a different pair. She had played this the night before, but she managed to forget everything._

_“A lot of people start at law firms with over confidence, you’re already off to a good start.” She noticed his smile and the way he had managed to let her forget about the lump in her throat._

_“So, I should be nervous?”_

_“Nervous is good!” He found himself stealing glances at her. She was smiling, and she was rolling her eyes. The bookstore had become their shared solace with their worries buried at the back of their minds instead. She walked closer to him and they kept their voices low enough that even the employees wouldn’t hear._

_“How are you so sure?”_

_“That’s how I started with the attorney general. I came in headstrong and realized really quickly there was so much I still had to learn. The first team meeting was a reality check.” She turned to face him, stopped in their walk. Her face was back with worry. “But it’s not bad, I promise!”_

_“You’re a lawyer?”_

_“It’s been a while, but still going strong. I’ve learned a lot since my first day. What time do you start?”_

_“In about two hours.”_

_It was his turn to stop and stare at her. She shrugged her shoulder and she watched him trying to make sense of her answer._

_“Are you—what—why would you—two hours?!”_

_“I was impatient.” Her voice was soft but full of a small, shy laugh. She kept watching the streets, assessing the traffic and the world started to seem like a bright oasis._

_“I can see that! I can’t believe you, I managed to be late on my first day. I had to use the grandma excuse.” Her eyes widened as she stared at him, mid walk. “Yes, I still have the job. The bosses are nicer than they show in the movies.”_

_He fell into giving her tips about the first day of work. Her shoulders had begun to relax with every story of his faults. There was a laughter in her tone and the impatient bounce in her steps had disappeared. The hand that was twirling in her hair had stopped and she found herself enjoying the moment—forgetting the stress she had built up in her mind about getting stuck on the elevator on her first day._

_The sun felt warmer around them and time had found a comfortable place. She found herself looking into his eyes as he spoke with his hands and she wanted time to stop moving. They were lounging in the bookstore now with the only purpose of keeping the conversation going to hear each other’s voice more. He considered carrying her basket for her but gripped his hands around his book and continued to listen to her._

_She was explaining she had promised herself that she would treat herself after getting the job offer. She had a list of books that kept growing and she was going to let herself splurge. But, she wanted to waste time, she wanted to wrap herself in a comfort before going through the doors of her new life. So, she came in with no lists and no memorized list of authors floating around her mind and stalked the aisles. She let herself pick anything that stood out to her just, so she would think about that instead._

_She still couldn’t explain the law exam preparation book._

_“Maybe to help me keep up with everyone in the office?” She said as she emptied out her basket at the cashier._

_“I’m sure you know more than the people in the office. This exam books are just here to scare you. You’ve done your work.” He leaned by the cashier as the girl at the counter scanned his book._

_“I guess, I just feel like there’s going to be someone who I’m going to rub the wrong way on the first day.”_

_“Honestly, everyone hates each other in the office.” She stared at him again. “It’s normal, it’ll be just fine.” As her books were getting scanned, he found himself retelling the story of his first day. The day he decided to walk up late and stuff a piece of half-toasted bread in his mouth and his hair extremely aloof and his tie still half done. He had his friend on his phone and they were already busy making up a cover story. He noticed her eyes dance around with his hands and the sun shone around her and he felt like he was still dreaming._

_Walking out the bookstore, the fresh and cold air swam by them and she shivered in her heels and he kept himself from inviting her to Jitters with him. She looked around the street with her books gripped close to her in two big bags. Her shoulders hunched again, and she focused her gaze at the sky rise deeper in downtown. She prepared her breaths again and checked her clock. She still had too much time but maybe she could wait in the reception preparing her opening remarks. The back of her mind tried to help her find some courage to keep talking to him. He calmed her. His jokes calmed her. Listening to him make her a little bit happier._

_“You sure you want to go to work like that?” He spoke up for her. He motioned to her books._

_“Do I look crazy carrying all this inside?”_

_“Maybe with the law exam prep book. You didn’t drive here?”_

_“I won’t be able to find a parking space,” he raised his eyebrow, “I tried during the interview! So, I took a cab.”_

_“And got off at the bookstore instead?”_

_“I was nervous! I thought I was going to throw up.” She struggled under the weight of her books. He watched her shuffle on her heels and try to grip the books comfortably. But, then her bag slipped. Then, her hair got caught under her bag._

_“Here, let’s switch.” He motioned to her books, ready to reach over. “You take mine and I’ll take yours.” Placing his book in her hands, her body felt lighter and took in a long comfortable breath._

_“Are you sure?”_

_“I’m holding your books hostage, I need that back.”_

_“Once I finish it, I’ll give it back.” She gave him a smile and he almost fell over the sidewalk._

_“You sure you’ll be able to part from,” he cleared his throat and looked at the titles in his hand, “your book on penguins for that long?”_

_There was a little laugh. Then, a shake of her head. He couldn’t find himself to take his eyes off her._

_“You’ll have it back, I promise.”_

_“Alright, I can be found in Jitters.” With that, they shared a gaze—a gaze that lasted too long. But, in a blink he was already turning away._

_Shaking out of her trance, she called after him. “Wait! I didn’t even ask for your name!” He had already walked out of earshot of her and stood in the same spot, groaning. Turning towards her future office, she flipped through the pages in the book in her hands and the cover flashed a few ink marks._

_Following a few digits, it said, ‘HR Wells. Good Luck!'_

_\---_

The courthouse felt too large for her. Everything pounded in her head. The tears, the angry lawyers, and the ones memorizing their lines echoed in her head. She was hoping to arrive early, find a corner bench for herself in the early silence and plant herself there until the case was called in. She wanted to familiarize herself with the courthouse she’s so used to and to make sure she was in a familiar spot, but she couldn’t bring herself to leave the house. Her tea sat on the counter cooling down and the breakfast sat in its place untouched. The dishes from last night were still on the drying tray and her eyes were trained on the wine bottle. Her room still felt like Eobard, no matter what she tried to scrub down. Her throat still felt dry and she could still feel his fingers around her neck. 

Instead of finishing her breakfast, she took the bottle, stuffed it in a plastic bag, and slammed it on the ground in her balcony. Blinking against the noise, she finally wiped her tears.

She gripped her bag and went further back to the courthouse, looking for a corner. HR was leaning against a wall speaking on the phone. His hair was fluffed in place with no strands out of place. His bag was slung over his shoulder and his tie was held together with the tie clip. He had positioned a handkerchief in his breast pocket and her shoulders relaxed watching him talk with his hands. As his gaze worked around the room, his eyes landed on her. With his eyes raised and a soft smile on his lips, she found herself staring. Again. 

They found themselves staring at each other and he hurried his call.

She’s been wanting to call him all night. She wanted to find herself in front of his doorstep to tell him everything. Then, she remembered Eobard knew she was at STAR Labs. Eobard’s gun flashed in her head. His words echoed in her ears and she found herself on her sofa hugging her knees trying to calm her heart by herself. She could feel Eobard’s stare on her with her every move. When her phone would buzz, she could feel Eobard checking. She tried to work on her computer and every button made her feel Eobard was standing behind her. 

In the noise of the room, she whispered to HR, “how deep are you looking into Eobard?”

“Good morning to you too, Jaan.” HR still had his smile.

“HR are far are you looking into Eobard?”

“You look like you haven’t slept all night!” She knew HR never liked to talk about his case before it started. 

“I’m serious, HR!”

“We’re following hunches. And bread crumbs left by someone.” 

“I shouldn’t have given you anything. You need stop looking into him.” HR’s back straightened, and his gaze narrowed.

“Why? What’s wrong”

“You just need to stop! You can’t just restrict your research on him!”

“He’s a suspect and I’m not going to stop looking into him until I can prove that he deserves to be in prison.”

“You’re going too far, HR. You need to try a different possibility.”

“Just because he’s your client—”

“You don’t know what you’re doing, HR! Just because you have a grudge against him and can’t win against him you can’t keep your life about him! Stop being stubborn!” HR stared her, locking his jaw as her words settled around them. 

Taking in a deep breath, “can we, for once, not talk about him or the case? We’re going to argue about him in the room anyways.” As she nodded, he invited her to sit. Following a silence, he changed the topic. 

“I never asked, how does it feel to be partner?” Her head snapped to him.

“You knew?”

“Just because we weren’t talking doesn’t mean I wasn’t paying attention.” She nodded in response.

“I wish it didn’t happen the way it did. I wanted to celebrate it together.”

“Me too.” They stared at each other, letting the world play out around them.

“I’m sorry,” HR whispered, as if the walls could listen. “I’m sorry about what I said the other time. I crossed a line.” 

“You were right. I don’t know what I’m fighting for anymore. I don’t know if my parents would be—”

“They’d be proud with how far you’ve come. This is all because of your hard work. You’ve earned it.” 

“What about you?” Their distance was far enough to not raise any glances, but their gaze kept them transfixed.

“I’ve always been proud of you. You joined the big leagues.” The smile returned. “They finally have a better voice on their table.”

“I feel like I’m only there to watch sometimes.”

“That just means you’re waiting for the right time to pounce on them.” They smiled at each other and looked away. A silence built around them and she could feel her heart jump out of her chest.

“I don’t want to keep fighting.”

HR almost didn’t hear her. Her voice was small and strained and his hand urged him to reach over and cup her face in his hands.

“Is something bothering you, Jaan?” She was silent. HR was about to reach for her arm when the court clerk called out their case number. She took in a deep breath and stood up. Before she could walk away, HR grabbed her wrist. 

“Are you sure you want to do to this?” People had begun to shuffle in the room and they were frozen in their spot. She wanted to say so much but also wanted to lose herself in his arms. His brows were pulled together as he watched her expressions. 

“We have to.”

“We can also walk out, never look back, move to the countryside, take care of a few cows, and work on the book we always wanted.” Silence. “We leave right now.” She wanted to. She wanted to run away with the clothes on their back, hide away, and bury themselves in domesticity. She wanted to raise a family with HR and busy her days with their schedule and take long walks with him. She wanted to take him away from the city, so they can focus on their interests. Yet, she knew he would never stop thinking about the people he could have helped. She knew he would always read the newspaper and imagine the ways he could have helped someone. 

She could never forgive herself for taking him away from that. 

“I miss you, meri jaan.” She whispered.

“I miss you too.” _Stay_ , he wanted to say.

She took her wrist away from him and catching one glance at him, walked inside the room. 

Sighing, HR ran his fingers through his hair and pulled the strands back into place. He took one large sip of the new coffee 2.0 concoction Cisco tried to create in the lab and spit out the sip and the coffee before entering the room. Caitlin and her mother sat in the gallery and their eyes were already trained on Eobard who sat next to his lawyer. HR gave his clients a reassuring smile and turning to organizing his desk when he noticed her taking out the contents of her bag. Like usual, she had a spot for everything. She had her notepad, two reliable pens and a stack of properly labelled files. On top of her pile was something he never saw on her desk before—even when he watched her cases from the gallery.

A book.

Their book. 

She rested her hand on the book and noticed his stare. For a second, they didn’t move, and they watched the same movie. They remembered the bookstore. They remembered her first phone call after her first week on the job. They remembered noticing each other across the courthouse. HR told her to keep the book until she finished it. He wanted to hear her thoughts first, he had said. They joked they could never separate because of the book. 

DeVoe’s voice broke through their trance and she walked away from his line of sight and he busied in arranging his desk. His opening remarks were tucked in files and hidden from himself. A prepared statement was always his last resort. After his first case, he stopped preparing his statements in the risk of sounding too rehearsed. He liked moving through his words, following the focus of the jury. He liked to speak from his heart for his clients instead of feeling separated from them. His surroundings were his muse and his client’s emotions were his motivation. Yet, he kept something prepared for himself but today he had managed to gather up his confidence and began to read the room. 

Eobard’s eyes were trained on HR. As HR moved through the room, they locked stares. They had a few moments in the courthouse in the past. HR’s fought cases for Eobard’s past employees against the company representatives and had cost Eobard a lot of money. They already had a rift between them before his last case and now finally they were face to face, taking their fight personally. Eobard didn’t waver his stare and HR didn’t breakaway. 

Then, HR noticed. Eobard’s eyes were changing. The colours in his iris’ were mutating. His eyes weren’t the usual hints of the deeper blue. Slowly, his eyes transformed to an icy, shiny, glowing blue. 

Eobard’s eyes turned into the glowing icy piercing eyes HR and the Flash saw with the Frosts. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for making it this far!


End file.
